The Secretary's Fake Rockstar Husband

Cora stepped out of the hotel lobby. She was wearing a cheap, fast-fashion floral dress Callum had ordered from a delivery service. The fabric scratched against her skin. A massive, midnight-black Rolls Royce Cullinan glided to a stop right in front of her. The tinted window rolled down. Callum was in the driver's seat, wearing a plain black t-shirt. He nodded toward the passenger side. "Get in." Cora froze on the pavement. She stared at the chrome grille of the luxury SUV. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "You're broke." Callum let out a frustrated sigh and slapped the leather steering wheel. "It's a prop car. We rented it yesterday to shoot a music video. They charge by the hour, and I still have it until noon." He scowled at the dashboard. "The gas mileage on this tank is literally bankrupting me." Cora hesitated, but the irritation in his voice sounded genuine. She opened the heavy door and climbed in. The smell of rich, untouched leather and expensive cologne filled her senses. She felt entirely out of place. Callum shifted gears, and the massive car merged smoothly into the chaotic Manhattan traffic. The cabin was dead silent. Cora turned her head, staring out the thick glass window. The city blurred as they drove. Her reflection in the glass looked pale and exhausted. Her mind violently yanked her back to last night. The Hodges Group annual gala. She remembered standing in the corner of the grand ballroom, wearing a rented dress she couldn't afford. She had watched Bennett standing by the champagne tower, surrounded by wealthy heirs and socialites. She remembered Bennett's younger sister, Seraphina, laughing loudly. "Look at her standing there like a lost puppy," Seraphina had sneered to her friends. "She's just the dead butler's baggage. She actually thinks she belongs here." Cora had held her breath, waiting for Bennett to defend her. He had been standing two feet away. Instead, Bennett had taken a sip of his drink, his face completely bored. "Leave her alone, Sera. She knows her place." Her place. The words had sliced through Cora's chest like a rusty blade. Twelve years. Twelve years of organizing his life, anticipating his moods, loving him in pathetic, silent agony. And to him, she was just a piece of furniture that knew its place. A sharp pain radiated from her palms. Cora looked down. She was gripping the seatbelt so hard her fingernails had broken the skin of her palms. The car stopped at a red light. Callum didn't say a word. He reached out and turned the dial on the climate control, blasting warm air into the cabin. He opened the center console, pulled out a bottle of Evian water, twisted the cap off, and handed it to her. Cora took the bottle. Her cold fingers brushed against the warm, rough skin of his knuckles. The sudden heat jolted her out of her dark thoughts. "Thank you," she whispered. She took a sip, forcing the lump in her throat down. Callum kept his eyes on the road. "Whoever made you feel like you aren't worth anything," he said, his voice casual but laced with a hard edge, "is a complete and utter idiot." The words hit Cora right in the center of her chest. Her throat tightened painfully. Tears flooded her eyes, hot and fast. She didn't argue. She just turned her head back to the window. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek and dropping onto her hand. It felt like a physical release of twelve years of poison. The Rolls Royce turned a corner. The grand, classical columns of the New York City Hall came into view. Callum pulled the SUV into a temporary parking spot and killed the engine. He turned to her. "Ready?" Cora took a deep breath. She reached into her cheap purse, pulled out a compact mirror, and quickly applied a layer of red lipstick. It was war paint. She snapped the mirror shut. Her eyes were hard. "I have never been more awake in my entire life." They pushed the doors open and stepped out onto the sidewalk. They walked side-by-side toward the massive stone steps. Cora's phone vibrated violently in her purse. She pulled it out. The screen flashed with the name: Bennett Hodges. Yesterday, seeing that name would have made her heart race with hope. Today, it just made her stomach churn with nausea. Cora didn't break her stride. Right in front of Callum, she pressed the red button, rejecting the call. Then she held the power button down and watched the screen go completely black. She shoved the dead phone back into her purse and walked up the steps.